


This Enchanted Life

by MethodMom



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, SQ Endgame, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22074019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MethodMom/pseuds/MethodMom
Summary: Emma, single mom, and advice columnist for the New York Mirror, is just trying to live the best life she can after the loss of her wife, Lily.  She didn't expect to get a second chance at love. She definitely didn't expect that chance to be dating her brother.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 11
Kudos: 36





	This Enchanted Life

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year and welcome! This is my first SQ fic! I'm excited to finally be getting started on it and I hope you all enjoy it. It's unbeta'd, but if there are any glaring issues, please let me know! I'm planning for it to be entirely from Emma's POV, but if that changes I'll give a heads up. I own nothing, just taking the characters out for a bit of fun.

Emma rolled over in bed, soft rays of light from the window caressed her closed eyelids enough to rouse her from a fitful sleep. Her eyes fell to picture on the bed side table. She ran her fingers along the edge of the frame, a small, sad smile playing at the edges of her lips. It was her favorite picture of the two of them and was the next best thing to wake up to in lieu of the real thing.

The alarm clock rang out in the quiet, startling Emma and pulling her from her reverie.

6 a.m.

She let out a resigned sigh, swung her feet to the floor, and pushed herself out of bed. “Let’s do this.”

Emma was currently working as a staff writer for the New York Mirror and had been for the past four years. Her parenting advice column, This Enchanted Life, ran weekly and on Sunday each week she would dole out words of wisdom to struggling parents all over the city.

The work was good and she was thankful for it even if it had started out as a fluke.

Years ago, Emma was a proofreader for the newspaper and her dear friend Andy was in a bind. They needed something quick to fill the space where her Life and Style piece normally ran and Andy, being the sweet, mid-western pain in the ass that she was, suggested Emma’s rough draft for a special parenting edition. It would even run with Emma’s own byline.

The only reason she even had that to offer up was because she was asking advice on how to handle her own twin daughters. At the time Emma’s daughter Belle was 12 and the two bonded over coffee, equally gushing and commiserating about their children. It was during one of their (now standing) Tuesday coffee house venting sessions that Andy brought up the idea of an advice column to her.

“It could work, Emma. Really!” Andy exclaimed.

“I don’t know… I’m happy where I am.” Emma said, unsure who she was trying to convince. “My life is hectic, Andy. You know that.”

Andy smiled and took a sip of her coffee. “Boy do I. No one knows more about hectic schedules than I do. Trust me. But when your wife is the veritable Queen of Fashion, you learn how to adjust.” Emma could see that Andy was trying to be lighthearted about it, but free time was hard to come by, and Emma knew they’d been putting in extra effort to be together more. “It’s just…,” she sighed turning her attention back to Emma and continued, “I know how hard it’s been since Lily’s been gone.”

Emma looked down at her cup, suddenly very interested in the cardboard sleeve surrounding it. “I see you working so hard and you’ve so much to offer. You are wasting yourself down there and this would give you a chance to _work from home_ , Emma. See your kids more. Give you _more_ flexibility, not less.” Andy continued, “you’ve helped me so much with Caro and Cass, let me help you here. Please, Em.” Her brown eyes pleaded.

Three weeks later, her friend conveniently “forgot” she would be in Paris reporting for fashion week and Emma found herself in front of their editor in chief discussing the details of her new advice column.

And that is how she found herself, now four years later, sitting at her desk and thumbing through the pile of letter’s she got every week asking for advice. She read, and responded, to each and every one. Though she couldn’t publish them all, there were simply too many, she felt a responsibility to the people seeking her help. Call it a savior complex, but she felt the need to help others as much as she could.

She’d been asked for advice on handling everything from potty training, to introducing pet’s, to teen dating. She wasn’t a doctor, just a mom, but people appreciated the realness of the answers she gave; recognizing a kindred spirit when they saw one.

She looked at her watch.

7 a.m.

_Time to rally the troops for school._

Emma, made her rounds to each bedroom, delivering laundry and rousing her sleepy children.

Belle was 17 and since earning her driver’s license has bombarded her mother endlessly with statistics and perks of having another driver in the family. Emma knew she wanted a car. She even knew how helpful it would be, but she wasn’t quite ready. No, for the time being she was stuck riding the bus like her younger siblings, and for the most part, she felt like Belle understood. But the time was rapidly approaching when Emma would have to loosen her reins. Belle was submitting college applications now and though it broke Emma’s heart for her to leave, she was proud of the young woman her daughter was becoming.

“Are these yours?” she held up a lacy pair of thongs, questioning Belle.

Belle’s brows creased and she shook her head in distaste. “Mom, you know I don’t wear thongs. I hate the way the ride up, especially on practice days.”

Emma cringed; they weren’t her own so that left only one other person in the house they could belong to…

Ruby was 14 and had the stereotypical attitude to match. Her middle child was creative and wonderful, but she had finally hit the angsty teen stage and boy was she going all in with the mood swings. _She should be an actress,_ she thought wryly, as she dropped off her stack of laundry in front of her door and knocked.

“Rubes, time to get up.”

Her daughter wrenched the door open dramatically, adding an eye roll for good measure. “God! I’m already up, mom!”

Emma leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, eyebrow lifted, and lips pursed. The lacy thongs dangling from the tip of her fingers accusingly. Ruby snatched them away balling them in her hands wishing they’d disappear. No doubt, like she wished she could right at that moment.

“We need to talk,” was all Emma said. And with a huff Ruby slammed the door back mumbling something that sounded a lot like ‘so lame’ and ‘not old like _you_ ’.

With a sigh, Emma picked up the laundry basket and made her way to her son’s room. Henry was 8 and was the only one of her kids who she was sure still liked her.

“Hey kid, you up?”

“Yea Mom, I’m up” he replied cheerfully.

When she opened his door, she saw her son standing there clad only in knee high socks, tiny little boxer briefs (no characters because that was ‘kid-stuff’) and his heavy winter coat. He had his suitcase out on the bed and was packing. “I was going to do that today, bud.”

He smiled wide. “Well, now you don’t have to.”

Emma thought it was cute that he took his role as ‘man of the house’ so seriously (if not too seriously since she was never one to enforce gender stereotypes. It was a talk they’d need to have soon), but she worried for him. When Lily died, he was only four, but like the others, her absence impacted him in ways she didn’t expect. Henry took to reading and became obsessed with an old story book that Lily used to read to them. He withdrew from her and became consumed with the idea that they were all from some place called the Enchanted Forest and that his mom would find true love again. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him that she he would likely never date again. It felt too disrespectful of his other mother’s memory. But the book gave him hope and she never once considered taking it from him. He was coping in his way and she would respect and support that.

Funny enough, it was that book that inspired her column name. She was talking to Andy about how he slept with the book under his pillow and she made the off comment, “ha, don’t we all wish we had an enchanted life?!”

“I don’t know about enchanted. I’m just trying not to fuck it up, Andy.”

“…aren’t we all?” she sighed.

Her son stood staring at her, his adorable little face scrunched up in confusion. Emma smirked.

“You hungry?”

His eyes twinkled, like Emma, he was always hungry. “Yea!”

“Cereal?” she asked, and his eyes lit up.

“Sounds awesome, Mom!” He exclaimed as he took off downstairs to the kitchen. Apparently, pants weren’t required at school today. She snickered and rolled her eyes affectionately, grabbing a clean pair of pants and shirt for him before heading down to have breakfast with her family.


End file.
